Not Just a Walk in the Park
by Angleterre97
Summary: Arthur and Francis have walked through the park many times, but today was different. Francis hoped for the best, and they both would never forget this day.


It was mid-fall as Arthur and Francis strolled down the well worn path in the park near their home. It was in the middle of the city, but as the world continued to move around them all was calm in the inner reaches of the park, their park. They had walked this path so many times, far to many to count in fact. Often they would take this path after a particularly bad argument and by the time they had made it through the tall trees and patches of flowers and other wild life they would emerge on better terms, hand in hand. Their park was truly enchanted. They usually upheld mindless small talk for a time before they let a golden silence envelope them on their trek. They were immersed in one such silence as they came upon a familiar bench. Their bench. So many times they had sat on that bench, either in each others arms or at each others throats. It was a special place to both of them, for the memories the worn wood held of them were plenty. They exchanged a glance and a smile as they settled onto the bench to watch the leaves descend from the limbs above them. Arthur had always enjoyed this time of year the most and Francis knew it. He loved the look on the shorter blonde's face as he marveled at the beautiful colors all around them. He really loved him...

Francis had been extremely nervous when they began their walk today. He probably shouldn't have been, but their was no denying that he was. Today, he had decided...today. As he watched his partner gaze out into space he fished into his coat pocket to reassure himself. He gave Arthur's had a squeeze. The Briton tore his eyes away from the scattering leaves and his forest-green eyes met Francis' own sky-blue ones. "Yes love?" Francis took a deep breath. Now or never, no going back.

"Arthur," He began."First I would like to apologize, for I have stolen many things from you over the years." The shorter-haired man stared at the french man with a look of confusion, and he continued. "Your first dance, your first date, first kiss," He smirked a bit. "Your first time." Arthur's face tinged a shade of red. "And in the beginning I felt as if I had to steal your love, until you finally opened up enough to trust me and give it to me freely." The Brit opened his mouth to say something, perhaps protest, but was cut off by Francis as he plowed on. "I have been a very selfish man in this way, and I'm sorry. But your are guilty as well, albeit not as much as me." Arthur raised a thick eyebrow. "For even if you hold your own heart tight and tentatively, you have stolen mine completely, but I'm certainly not complaining, for I would have willingly given it to you anyways." Arthur's blush deepened. He was usually use to his boyfriend being sappy, but this was something surprisingly new...and deep. "But even now I am not satisfied. Ridiculous maybe, but alas is true. There is nothing I could ever ask of you, for you are truly perfect the way you are, the way I love you. I cannot ask anything of you, except..." He stood from the bench only to take a knee in front of the man he was pouring his heart out to and pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket. "Except for your hand." He opened the box to reveal a ring, and with his free hand took his lover's in his own. "Will you marry me, Arthur Kirkland?"

Arthur stared at Francis for what seemed like a lifetime as he took in all he had heard. Francis stared right back up at him expectantly, a small tint of worry creeping into his eyes. Why hadn't he answered yet? He was about to say something when he was suddenly flung into a tight, warm embrace. "Angleterre..." Arthur lifted his head after a moment and captured Francis' lips in a loving kiss, tender and caring. And as he pulled away and returned his gaze to the french man's he mumbled something so quiet that he barley heard it. "Yes.."

"What was that, lapin?" He prayed he had heard him right.

"Yes." Arthur said it louder this time. "Yes, I will...I will."

Francis was sure his heart melted then. He stood up with his Angleterre, his. He hugged him and held him. He picked him up and kissed him, then kissed him again. He sat them both down on the bench, Arthur still in his lap and held him close again, close enough to whisper in his ear. "You make me the luckiest man alive do you know that cher?" Arthur chuckled and snuggled deeper into his fiance's arms. Fiance. It was new, so new, but truly amazing. "I have been a selfish man." He said again as he tightened his grip on the other just a bit.

The scruffy-haired blonde lifted his head to look at the other. "Has it been worth it?" Francis locked his lips with his again and smiled into the kiss. "Of course it has, mon amour."

"I love you, Francis."

'Je t'aime trop Arthur, frever et ennemi toujours."


End file.
